My fisted slam against the barrier.

This can't be it.

Is hope coming?

Craved into the flesh of a child is my answer.

I want to swallow down the vile at the back of my throat, it was dry and scratched. I wanted to rip through my skin and stop the pain. Stop the itching from behind my eyes.

Beatriss had rejoiced. She cried and prayed to the Goddess. I wanted nothing more then to scream. At her, at them, at him.

My anger would never diminish.

Boy of ten took my mother from me.

Who gets to decide who lives and who dies? I thought that I could. I had everything in place but Mother always knows best. I was greedy to think I could have what other could not. That I could keep the one person who had never betrayed me safe. She proved me wrong.

This betrayal had broken me.

This wasn't the hope I had been waiting for.

A boy of ten saved my mother in a way a could not.

I could feel it cold and heavy against my skin. The one thing that had started it all. The one that had ended my mothers life. I pulled the dagger from my sleave craved on the side of it was then name of my mothers killer. The same name scratched into the arm of a child as a sign.

Finnikin of the Rock.